


stare down the barrel of the gun

by spacecraft



Category: Among Us (Video Game)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Anxiety, Disassociation, Discussions of Morality, Enemies to Friends, Gen, Gore, How to adopt a murderous alien 101, Hurt/Comfort, I'll update the tags as I go, Minor Character Death, Murder mystery but without the mystery, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Space War, can be romance if you squint, discussions of mental health, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:47:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26669179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacecraft/pseuds/spacecraft
Summary: [“It’s okay,” they said, holding up their hands in a show of good intent. “It’s okay.”Cradling the lifeless body of one of the crewmates, knife still in hand, the alien looked up at them incredulously.]On a ship quietly moving through the vastness of space, an alien and an astronaut come to an armistice.
Relationships: Crewmate & Impostor (Among Us)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 209





	1. trapped in a place we don't belong

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the song Reckless Paradise by Billy Talent.
> 
> I've never posted a fanfic here before & english is not my first language, so please bear with me :') I think there will be 2 or 3 short little chapters. I don't feel the need to expand much on this concept, but maybe that'll change as I go.
> 
> Also I'm a horrible impostor in-game, this is kind of based on that. (But only kind of.)

The gentle noise of electricity hummed through the ship, filling the quiet spaces between its inhabitants. The cheerful comradery from the evening meal now lulled to peaceful goodnight wishes as the astronauts went off to find their rest for the evening.

A few stragglers stayed behind, determined to finish their tasks for the day. They gave promises to keep quiet and soft uttered reassurances before shooing their friends off to bed. And so the night fell.

\--

“It’s okay,” they said, holding up their hands in a show of good intent. “It’s okay.”

Cradling the lifeless body of one of the crewmates, knife still in hand, the alien looked up at them incredulously. The corpse twitched slightly, not yet used to the darkness creeping in this far. Soon, it knew, their muscles would lock up and they’d appear to be frozen in time. Just for a moment. And then decomposition would break the illusion. Human anatomy was strange, but at least they still bled the same.

The astronaut in the yellow suit crouched down to sit with them, seemingly confident that this being in the form of their ally would not harm them. Despite all evidence pointing to the contrary. “It’s okay.” They repeated again, taking the hand of their deceased companion.

“I don’t understand.” It gripped the knife tighter. “How do you mean? I killed them. I killed your kind. You _caught_ me.” The helmet remained in the direction of the corpse, not showing any sign that they were listening to the alien’s cries for explanations at all. “Why are you not sounding the alarm?” It tried, again.

“You seemed scared.”

It stared at them, speechless. Eventually, as the astronaut showed they’d be no threat, the alien slowly relinquished its hold on the corpse, letting it slide unceremoniously onto the ground. Its eyes never leaving the human, tracking their every movement just in case they’d try something.

The astronaut placed one of the cold hands on the body’s chest, before grabbing the other hand and folding them together as if it was concentrating on prayer instead of bleeding on the floor. “Thank you for your service." They mumbled, before patting the body’s shoulder. They got up, before turning to the alien, finally. “Come.”

“Excuse me?”

They pointed over their shoulder to the door and shrugged. “Or do you want to get caught? If you want to leave the ship, you’re free to.” It sputtered in reply before scrambling up to stand at the same height as them. “No- I— _what are you doing?_ ” If it hadn’t been for the helmet obscuring their face, the alien could’ve sworn that the human rolled their eyes at the extra-terrestrial murderer. But they just stood there, patiently, waiting.

It considered its options, and then gently placed the knife back into the stab wound of its victim. The human visibly cringed but didn’t speak. It stepped over the body to join them, heart racing.

It wasn’t until they arrived in the hallways near the navigation area that the yellow astronaut spoke hesitantly. “People die.” The alien looked at them as if they were unhinged.

“No, wait, let me finish.” They said, holding up a hand. “In this line of work, people die - a _lot_. This is the price we pay for stepping into the jaws of the dragon with the foolish notion that we ought to kill the beast before ever asking why.” They nodded their head vaguely in the direction of their fallen crewmate. “Even before our first alien contact, we imaged that there was a very strong possibility that life out here would be hostile to us. Because we’d always be hostile to them.”

“It is a shame they fell.” They added after a moment of thought. “But it is what we signed up for. This is the reality we all live with. We christened this a battlefield the moment we intentionally entered the territory of your kind.”

They glanced at the alien, who remained quiet in the face of all of this. The kindness shown before juxtaposed with the reality of guilt. For a moment rage pulsed through its veins and it envisioned in powerful imagery how easy and satisfying it would be to pierce straight through their chest right now. The astronaut hummed. “Maybe you don’t know about this, after all.”

“Why are you here?”

They looked away quickly, awkwardly facing the window, as if they had been hit just now with the reality of what they revealed a moment ago. As if the stars held an answer that would not shatter the timid peace between them. A beat of silence, as they tried to find the right words. “The universe is full of things that will someday eat us alive.”

The alien laughed, seeming almost startled by the sound itself. “Very cryptic.”

“It’s what they tell us.” The astronaut said. “In hindsight, it was foolish.”

It looked at the ground and took a breath, before looking at the astronaut again. For a moment, they appeared to be a thousand lightyears away. A battle worn soldier disillusioned with the war. “I won’t forgive you. Even though you spared me.”

They smiled tiredly, even though the alien would not see it. “That’s fair. I won’t forgive you either.”

It nodded, satisfied.

\--

The fear didn’t leave. It followed the alien through the halls, in conversations and even in the vents. After the discovery of the body, there was a period of increased hypervigilance. They knew now that there was something or someone here attacking one of their own and the alien could feel eyes on it wherever it went.

It was sure the yellow astronaut hadn’t talked, or else it’d be a corpse floating among the debris outside right about now. But that did not mean it was cleared from suspicion.

Avoiding the crewmembers seemed like a solid plan. If they didn’t see the alien, then they couldn’t see it do anything suspicious either. But that also meant that they wouldn’t see it do tasks either – even though it never did anything except pretend. It was pretty sure it didn’t even know how to operate most of the machinery and tools, let alone figure out how to fix things. A crewmember who didn’t do tasks could be chalked up as mourning a recent loss or as being ill, but it suspected that an excuse like that wouldn’t fly long here.

The alien paced the hallway wringing its hands, trying to figure out a good plan of action, when it heard footsteps behind it. In a moment of panic, it decided to continue walking in the direction it was facing and to just pretend to be on its way to do one of its tasks. Surely eventually it’d lose the human and then it’d be able to go back to figuring out a plan. _Any_ plan.

It almost nodded to itself in agreement with its thoughts and upped its pace, hurrying to the end of the hallway. Just as it thought it made the right move, the footsteps behind it sped up as well. _Fuck, would it have to kill this person?_ It gritted its teeth as anxiety soared through its veins. Desperate times called for desperate measures. It reached down into the pocket where it kept a gun.

And that’s when a yellow hand wrapped itself around its wrist. The alien froze in place, the hand slid down as the astronaut laced their fingers with its own. “Come.” They spoke.

“ _What is **wrong** with you.”_ The alien hissed, allowing itself to be pulled along. Its other hand moved out of its pocket, no longer itching for the weapon. They just laughed as if it had told them a funny joke.

Together they stepped into the empty communications room. The radio was silent except for the occasional creaking interference.

As soon as they entered, the human let go of its hand. A minor concern, but the alien still was not pleased with the sudden loss, even though it couldn’t pinpoint as to why. “Stick with me.” They said, “From now on. They are suspicious because you keep going off on your own.”

The alien just shook its head in confusion. “ _That’s_ why you were being creepy? Fuck, you could’ve just said that instead of—Wait, why would you even want that?”

They cocked their head. “Do you not want my help?”

“No, I-“ It hesitated, thinking it over. “I don’t think I have much choice here. I don’t want to die.” It wrinkled its nose at the sound of its own hypocrisy.

A nod. “We have choices. You sound like you have made yours.” They took out their tablet and opened up the file transfer app, pointing it in the direction of a symbol on the wall. Tiny pieces of paper moved on the screen. “If we’re together, we can back each other up and convince the rest of the crew that we are not the murderers. “

It paused. “But I am.”

The astronaut shrugged. “That, you are.”

A small sound notified them that the download was completed. The alien considered the human for a moment. It was a sound plan. The yellow astronaut could go about their tasks and it would just stick along. It’d craft an alibi and built rapport between it and the crew. If it’d become a trusted member, how much easier would it be to carry out the task laid before it?

How much harder would it be?


	2. stuck in a crisis / without a conscience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [The alien blinked. And blinked again. The world fell away.]
> 
> This chapter deals with disassociation, anxiety and other trauma responses. If you wish to avoid it but still want to know what happens, shoot me a message or a comment and I'll do my best to summarize it for you. Take care ♥️

On different parts of the ship, a human and an alien lied awake on their stiff sheets. The darkness familiar to them in both its treachery and its comfort. Outside, the stars pretended not to be bystanders wrapped in an ethereal glow. Always moving towards nothing.

The darkness droned outside. The ship chugged on.

\--

The morning arrived as irritatingly as always. The fluorescent lights flickered on, filling the rooms with a noisy static as the inhabitants groaned the sleep away. One by one the crewmembers pushed themselves out of their beds and started making preparations for the day ahead. There was laughter in a cabin a few doors over. Cursing in the next one. The alien didn’t know if they were related.

Its roommate stretched their hands above their head, yawning as their joints popped. “Hope you had a good night’s rest.” They smiled at it. A morning person, even in the vast darkness of space. “I saw the task list yesterday and today is promising to be a busy day. Best of luck.” They grabbed their pale blue helmet.

“You too.” The alien mumbled awkwardly, heart pounding. The cyan astronaut gave it a thumbs up before hitting the button to open the door. With a hiss, the door slid open, carrying sounds of the beginning of breakfast inside the cabin. The astronaut left.

The creature pushed itself up off of the bed, its form wavering for a moment as a sense of dread overtook it. What was the right way to move forward? The night had not brought it any answers, it doubted breakfast would either. Breakfast would bring stares and judgement, analysing its every move in an effort to determine if it had a guilty conscience or not. If it was human or not.

Would they be able to tell from the movement of its hands that it had held a knife only a couple nights before? Could they tell from its breathing that it had robbed someone of theirs? Would its legs give it away? Its arms? Its stomach?

Where would that leave it?

With shaking hands and blurry vision it moved mechanically through its morning routine. Suit. Helmet. Tablet. It took a deep breath that did little to calm the pounding of its heart, and pressed the button.

The alien stood in the hallway for all of 5 seconds before a voice rang out from its right side. “Hey! Good to see you!” A figure clad in yellow jogged up to it, grabbing its hand (again!). “I was just headed for breakfast. I’m assuming that’s where you’re going as well? How do you feel about pancakes?”

If they felt the tremors running down its arm, they didn’t speak of it. Instead opting to gently bump their shoulder into its own, in an attempt to get it to speak.

“I- Uh, yeah. Yeah, breakfast sounds good.” It stuttered, and didn’t move. The astronaut just waited patiently. It felt foolish, standing still in front of the now closed cabin door, holding hands with the enemy. But their body heat seeped through its glove and its breathing slowed. It closed its eyes inside the helmet, allowing itself to be grounded by the solid presence of another being.

After a minute that felt like a lightyear, the alien gave the human’s hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. “Let’s go then.” It said, with all the confidence of someone who had not just been at the edge of a nervous breakdown. And so they moved into the communal eating area.

\--

Even in the now permanent absence of a co-worker, the cafeteria was lively and busy. It felt as if everyone was determined to move on as quickly as possible, even when the loss was still tangible. There was a moment of tension as a sleepy crewmate accidentally sat in the spot of their fallen companion, but it was quickly sussed out with a hasty apology and a metre or two of movement.

The alien and the human took their place in a corner. With a quick “I’ll be right back” the human departed in the direction of the food stations, leaving the alien alone but not worryingly so. With a clear view of the whole cafeteria and the safety of the wall behind it, its anxiety did not rear up its ugly head. Instead it merely hummed on in the background.

Soon enough, the yellow astronaut returned with two trays of food. They placed them on the table before taking off their helmet and placing it methodically next to their tray. The alien followed suit. The astronaut turned to look at the otherworldly creature as they made eye contact for the first time. It gave the human a nervous smile, worried that the form it took was not convincing enough to fool the critical eyes of the rest of the crewmates it was mimicking. But the human just gave a gentler smile in kind and sat down next to it.

“Have you ever had pancakes before?”

The alien laughed, startled. “Yeah, or something akin to it anyway. They’re larger and flatter where I’m from, and not exactly a breakfast food. But equally unhealthy.” It grinned, picking at the pancake that was neither a pan nor a cake. Weird humans.

They cocked their head questioningly. “What do you call them?”

“Pannenkoeken.”

The astronaut nodded thoughtfully before trying to repeat the sound the alien just made in horribly garbled way. They burst out in laughter upon seeing the purely affronted look on its face. “Please never do that again.” It begged.

They failed to reply, too busy hiccupping from laughter in their pancakes.

It shook its head before ~~stabbing~~ sticking its fork into its breakfast, unable to suppress the amused smile that tugged at the corners of its mouth.

The rest of the meal went much the same way. They shared small titbits of information and friendly comradery to the point where its awareness of the rest of the cafeteria fell away. The yellow astronaut made for pleasant companionship, even if they remained a mystery.

And then the power went out.

\--

The alien blinked. And blinked again. The world fell away.

Dulled, in the background, it could hear movement and crewmates cursing the shoddy electrical system. It could see in the darkness, blurs of movement and an empty plate that would not stay still. It tightened its fist, suddenly hyperaware of the metal in its hand. A knife. Why was it holding a knife. Did it kill someone again? Was that why the air felt so heavy?

A figure next to it was talking, it tried to listen, to hear the words, but its brain could not string them together to figure out their meaning. Its hand moved and it watched, detached, as the limb moved slowly in the direction of the presence. Somewhere, in the back of its brain, there was a voice screaming at it to stop. But its body moved of its own accord. The alien merely reduced to a spectator.

A familiar hand wrapped around its wrist and gently took the dull bread knife, placing it on the table. They took their other hand and simply held its hands in their own. The alien took a breath and suddenly reality returned in a snap, not dissimilar from a diver breaking the surface of the water.

“I’m sorry.” It sucked in a breath, its hands started shaking. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Fuck. I’m sorry, I’m—“ One of the hands released their hold to wrap around the alien’s shoulders instead, pulling it into an awkward hug. In a moment of instinct, the alien released the other hand and wrapped its own arms around the astronaut, burying its face in embarrassment and clutching onto them as if they were a plank of driftwood in the ocean. It tried to continue mumble apologies into the fabric of their suit, but the human shook their head.

“Breathe. It’s okay. You didn’t harm anyone.” The alien frowned as it listened to the soothing words and continue to hide from the world until its heart stopped racing.

It took a moment, maybe a few more. But eventually it calmed. Their arms untangled as the slow reassured feeling made way for embarrassment upon seeing that the lights were back on. “I—“ It started.

The astronaut shook their head. “It happens to the best of us. Nobody will judge you for it.”

It nodded, but continued looking uncomfortable. Finally, it got up from its seat. “We should, go. Probably.” It took a breath, surveying the scene. The cafeteria was empty apart from them, everyone seemingly moved on to do their tasks after the malfunction of the lights abruptly ended their breakfast.

“Probably.” The astronaut parroted, seemingly content to remain seated for a moment more. The alien hesitated for a moment, watching the human rub a spot on their helmet. The lack of eyes on it eased its nerves and embarrassment.

“You were wrong, by the way.” It eventually spoke up, as the human had moved on to a different spot. “Hm?” Sounded the classic response. “You were wrong. I have harmed someone.”

“Ah.” The astronaut paused. “So you have. Not today though, not yesterday either.”

“I don’t get it. How does that change things?” It patted the table impatiently.

They flexed their fingers before returning to working on the few smudges marring the glass. “I’ve harmed people too. So have the others. Nobody here is a saint.” They shrugged. “But you’ve chosen not to harm anyone since. Not even a moment ago. That changes things.”

Another vague answer. The creature didn’t know why it even expected anything else. Did it matter that it had chosen not to kill since? What if it chose to right now? What if they chose to tomorrow? Was this not why it was assigned this mission?

“I don’t think you’re a bad person, in case you think that.” The human spoke thoughtfully, unbothered by the alien’s silence. “We are not defined by the mistakes we make if we choose to learn from them.”

The astronaut looked up at it. Kind eyes. Bloody hands. The alien could not separate the stories of its kind dying at human hands from these human hands that had granted it mercy. They were the same hands. But on board of this ship so many miles away from where it had grown up, its own hands looked strikingly similar. One human life seemed insignificant in comparison to the many names lost in the attacks. But the wet breaths trembling through the steel blade and the desperate clawing at life weighed so very heavy. Was it a traitor, for hesitating? What side of history would it be on if it chose the lives of a few over the lives of many?

“You’re weird.” It finally said. The human laughed.

“C’mon, let’s go fix some wires.” They spoke, patting its shoulder again. “If you want, we can talk some more there. But at least we’ll get some work done before the day is up.”

With every task completed, the ship got closer to the front lines. The alien should kill the remaining crew, destroy the enemy from within. It knew that, and yet—

The human put its helmet over its head and gave it a little pat before putting on their own. The familiarity of it caused a warm feeling to bloom in its chest before it could stop it. Time was running out, sure, but maybe it could steal some fleeting moments together with this human and just breathe. It felt selfish, indulging in these moments of peace. But the idea of refusing them felt like a heartbreak in its own right. It could always chalk it up as building trust and an alibi if it ever had to explain itself.

It shakily smiled in the secrecy of its helmet and nodded. A day in electrical it’d be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Pannenkoeken" is a dutch word that literally translates to "pan cookies". They're neither pans nor cookies. Silly aliens.
> 
> The trauma responses are based off of my own, to a degree. I try not to project too much. Trauma can present itself in many different ways, they're all equally valid and deserving of care. Sadly there is a distinct lack of therapists on board of this space ship.
> 
> Also I've written about 5k words at this point and there's no end in sight yet, oh boy. 
> 
> Lastly, thanks for the love and support, it's very much appreciated :)


	3. a reckless paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “A spacecraft full of blood and entrails reaching out to kiss a cloud of interstellar dust.  
> There's a romance to it, if one doesn't look too closely.”  
> – Upsilon Dies Backwards, exurb1a

A thing any space traveller soon came to learn was that the universe was alive. An incomprehensible being, she was cold and warmth, ageless yet ancient, and so very, very patient. A behemoth lying in wait as tiny unsuspecting ship sputtering its way into her gaping maw.

The darkness swallowed them whole as the trembling pitter-patter of asteroids rained down upon them. With the lights went the engine and the communications unit. Though by a stroke of luck, or fate perhaps, the oxygen remained unharmed. The vehicle held its breath and released it into the tender void. A standstill.

Time, ever paradoxical. Expanding yet simultaneously running out. Oh, how it antagonised them. Little colourful astronauts scattered from their cabins and rushed to appease the machine keeping them alive. They would succeed. But not without the delay of the inevitable.

\--

Devastation was the only word that came to mind when the lights finally flickered on. Despite the fact that none of the asteroids had pierced the shell of the spacecraft, the impact was visible. Items and furniture were scattered about, white noise was audible from the communications room, broken electricity wires hung out of their casing, and all the craft’s inhabitants looked a little worse for wear.

Inspections and repairs throughout the day found that the ship had sustained more damage than initially anticipated, inhibiting it from progress, to most of the crew’s dismay. The alien was in no rush to lend aid. The longer the ship laid still, the more time it gained to fulfil its mission. And with every gained minute to do so, it felt justified spending more time with the yellow astronaut. Know thy enemy, and all that.

Besides, the only thing that it was told was to take over the ship _before_ it reached their territory. That was not a specific timeframe at all, it reasoned. Surely it could afford to slack off a little here and there. And if they would fault it for this, well, perhaps they should’ve been clearer.

With that in mind, it returned back to its cabin to check on its carefully hidden belongings.

In the privacy of its room, its hand reached down into the secret pocket in its mattress where it kept its weapon. The knife was somewhere hidden on the ship, confiscated as evidence after the discovery of the murder. But the hand gun was still here. As its fingers made contact with the cold metal of the machine, relief and anxiety washed over it.

There was a sigh of frustration as it withdrew its hand from the pocket. It flexed the appendage, its form wavering for a moment. Its chest tight with the contradictions that fought against the single objective it had received. But why? It couldn’t recall ever feeling this way about the assignment before. In fact, when it got chosen for this mission, there had been a sense of purpose then, perhaps pride, even. Confidence. For whatever reason, it was gone now. Now there were only memories of blood and gasping, of warm hands and a ridiculous astronaut with a calming voice. Hesitation. And traitorous, traitorous thoughts. And so much goddamn _fear_.

The alien stared at the small cabin window, finding itself wishing vehemently that the inanimate object would somehow tell it what to do. The steel frame and cold glass remained predictably, mockingly quiet as it fought the urge to bash its head against it. How frustrating, it thought, to be so utterly useless.

But, it thought, perhaps it didn't have to be useless alone. It plucked its cabin mate's task list from the door and stared at it. Usually it would pick one that was the easiest to fake and spent most of its time gathering intel as it pretended to struggle with the mindless work they all had to do.

But things had changed now, hadn’t they? Most astronauts had delayed their usual tasks in favour for larger repairs to get the ship in working order again. Which meant that not only was it easier now to get away with not doing tasks, it also was also easier to get a certain companion to skip doing their major tasks as well.

With most of the crew out of the way, they practically had the whole day to themselves. And by preventing a crew member from finishing their tasks, it also delayed the ship's progress even further, which was still partially in line with its mission.

With a tinge of excitement it tidied up its bed and made way to the cabin door.

\--

They met up in the hallway leading to the reactor. Their footsteps echoing over the metal walkway, an unsettling yet comforting noise. A feeling of being chased by a familiar being. Their footsteps found a rhythm that could make the noise transform into a sound almost melodic, creating a steady beat complimented by the constant thundering in their chests. The sound of being alive.

The whole journey to the reactor room went unspoken. Soulmates, the others had laughingly called their fast growing friendship. Two beings existing on the same wavelength. It had scoffed at the notion, and still did scoff. But there was an edge of truth to it that was undeniable. There had been a constant unspoken understanding here that it had never experienced before. As if they were an integral part of its being.

“You there?” The astronaut spoke suddenly, breaking the alien out of its thoughts. It shook its head in its helmet, trying to clear its head. “Yeah, I am. What were we doing here again?”

They breathed out a laugh. Like a parent amused by their child. And then went through the routine they had been through before. They nodded their head at the machine in the middle of the room. “I’m going to start the reactor. It had been shut down during the asteroid rain to prevent it from melting down, but without it up and running, the ship can’t create the power it needs to travel nor will it be able to keep all the vital machines active for as long as we need them to.”

The alien looked at the glowing, towering machine pressed against the wall. How humans managed to tame the elements to create temperamental beasts such as this, and then put it in their rickety little ships to power them, it felt it would never understand. The idea that it could melt down with all of them aboard being mentioned so casually made it feel almost a little manic. “Uhh, and what is my role here?” It answered intelligently, feeling ready to backtrack to the safety of their cabins, or even the messy electrical room.

“Well,” they began, looking around for an excuse to keep it busy, “you could always stand guard or just stand near the power routing panel. As long as you’re hanging around me, I don’t think anyone will question you.” They shrugged, turning to the beeping task in front of them.

For a moment the creature watched the human begin the complex, confusing task that seemed so routine to them. There were lights, buttons and sounds that somehow were all connected in a pattern. It had no clue how that in any way related to starting the colossus in front of them.

It decided to busy itself in the corner of the room. Peeking into the vent and closing it again innocently when it saw the yellow suit turn slightly towards it. It pressed its hand against the glowing plates, trying to spot areas where the light would shine through its skin and suit, changing the appearance of the colour of its suit. The layer dust that stuck to its glove made its nose wrinkle in disgust, before shaking its limb to get rid of it. Clearly cleaning had not been put on the task list thus far.

As the yellow astronaut finished up their task, and the reactor started whirring and humming to life, the alien in childlike spirit explored every corner of the room. They watched it animatedly interact with all the little parts that interested it. Even though the knowledge that the reactor could go into meltdown at any moment felt like a weight pressing down on them, there was a genuine freedom here that had a need to be treasured.

A moment where space and time looked upon two insignificant mortal beings and came to the mutual agreement to stay still just long enough to give them a taste of peace. A sensation both had long become unfamiliar with, but so desperately needed. It had never been enough to just fight against something, it would realise.

There needed to be something left to fight for.

\--

“Here’s a thought.” Mused the alien, laying down on a cafeteria table later that evening after everyone else had long left for the night. It peered up, trying to distinguish any recognisable features of the ceiling in the darkness. “What if we leave?”

The astronaut tapped their fingers on the table in a slow, rhythmic pattern. “They’d hunt us down, persecute us as enemies.”

It hummed thoughtfully. Carefully tasting the words on its tongue, a bitterness stuck to the roof of its mouth. “What if they didn’t hunt us?”

The tapping continued, patiently going along. A pattern, they’d noticed. “Then we’d float among the stars, nowhere to call home.”

It stretched its arm upwards, waving its hand in the air. “But what if we make the stars our home?”

The astronaut shook their head. “You can’t claim the stars.”

“Why not?” It demanded, with all the petulance of a child. It was under no delusion that there was an escape. But dear universe, please let it dream.

“They’re wild beings. Celestial gods given form. Older than any of us.”

Its nose scrunched up in retort, unwilling to accept it. “Perhaps they’d grant us mercy if we prayed to them? Give us safe passage and all.”

“I don’t think you understand how old gods work.” They folded their free arm upwards, gently resting their chin in their hand. The need to sleep ever so slightly tugging at their consciousness. “They’re not merciful in nature.”

The alien turned its head to face them, eyes soft as a gentle smile graced its features. For all that they easily rebutted its fantasies, their eyes betrayed a deep investment. They watched the alien carefully, likely had been watching all along. Their silence would’ve spoken so much louder so they covered it in noise. But it knew. It knew that it longed, and it knew that they longed just as much.

“Then what if we go to a nice grassy planet. Start a farm.”

A laugh. “You’re ridiculous. What exoplanet do you know that isn’t occupied?”

It shrugged. “They might accept us.”

The tapping quieted. A soft shake of their head. A softer voice.

“It’s a nice thought.”

The darkness stretched around them.

The cold, unyielding material of the cafeteria table slowly crept into its awareness as an uncomfortable reminder of existing. The alien pushed itself upright. The human turned their eyes away as the moment unravelled itself.

With a casual grace that would be nigh impossible for a human to replicate, it hopped off of the table with a muted thud and stretched its arms above its head. For good measure, it yawned with all the exaggeration of a menacing beast. The human laughed and put their helmet back on. “You’re as unsubtle as ever. Let’s go then.”

The alien gave a sleepy grin, and – upon realising that the astronaut wouldn’t be able to see its facial expression through the helmet – a thumbs up before walking backwards towards the entrance to the cabins.

Their paths diverged, left then right. A temporary goodbye filled with the presumption of a reunion come morning.

\--

Its body felt impossibly heavy. There were sounds around it, calling its name. Its attention. With great difficulty, it forced its heavy eyelids open and felt its stomach drop as it stared the endless darkness in the face. Fear settled in its bones, cold and waiting.

The darkness stared _back_.

Filling up the empty astronaut suit. Small gaps as if pierced by a heavy blade, leaving its smoky essence to trail behind. It opened its maw, as if to speak. As if to hunger. Behind it, a blue astronaut raised their arm and pointed their finger. Their mouth moved but the alien couldn’t make out the words.

An orange astronaut, seemingly appearing from nowhere, turned around and stared. Accusatory. Suspicious. Light flashed. Emergency meeting. Hands reaching from everywhere grabbed the darkness as it uselessly clawed around itself. Desperation colouring its movements. They dragged in back, further and further, until they hit a wall.

The alien tried to move forward, but its legs were rooted stuck to the ground, as if it was buried in molasses. Heavy and slow. Powerless. The wall turned into the heavy, motorized cargo doors. With a deafening drum the cogs were put into motion. The darkness pleaded. The alien stared. The hands twisted. The door opened.

They pushed. With great force, the emptiness encapsulated the darkness, dragging it slowly past the windows. The doors remained open as the emptiness gazed into them, the alien for a moment worried that it would take them all, but nothing happened. The suit only drifted there, waiting to become one with the void.

Eyes frantic, chest heaving, choking. Dying. Restless.

“ **Come home**.” Said the stars, in their thundering, static voice.

The alien woke up, frantic, heaving. Restless.

But very much _alive_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do I say this. Thank you, first of, for all the kudos and the comments. I could've never imagined that my little fic that I started writing as joke would reach quite this many people. Let alone that you'd find it enjoyable to read. I'm grateful.
> 
> Secondly, I'm sorry this update took so long. There were some intense family and personal issues that took up most of my time and energy, sadly. That is also part of why I decided to end it here. Originally I had a very different idea for an ending (also open ended though), but ultimately this one was more fitting. If it's any consolation, I am planning to post some one-shot fics with some other ideas I had for this pair of unlikely companions.
> 
> Also thank you to exurb1a's existential video essays for getting me in the right mood to write this :)


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